


While I Kiss This Guy

by J (j_writes)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Sex Swing AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gig's worth of kisses Tha Schling shares with his band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	While I Kiss This Guy

**Author's Note:**

> [fictional characters based on the internet personas of actual people, doing entirely fictional things. I do not give permission for this work or any of my others to be used in Rooster Teeth content.]

He kisses Jamez backstage, before the show. They're pressed close together, knees touching, Jamez's fingers tight against Schling's jaw as he holds him steady, leaning in to peer intently at his face.

"You're going to look like a goddamn raccoon," he cautions as Schling squirms, and Schling stills under his hands.

"Yeah," he agrees vaguely, and dutifully holds still as Jamez dabs on his makeup. He relaxes gradually, breath going slow and even, and Jamez's fingers lose their death grip against his jaw, pressing lightly there instead, cupping his face, his thumb rubbing idle patterns against Schling's stubble as he works.

Schling shivers, goosebumps breaking out down his arms, and when Jamez finally pulls back with a satisfied, "There," Schling doesn't open his eyes. Instead, he leans in, his hand mirroring Jamez's, reaching for his face and drawing him in to kiss him slow and deep.

Jamez makes a quiet sound into his mouth, but responds immediately, his fingers going tight against Schling, mouth parting against his lips, and it's a long while before he pulls away, voice unsteady as he says, "Hey." His fingers catch Schling's wrist, tugging it down from his face. "You're going to mess up all my hard work. This masterpiece doesn't paint itself, you know."

Schling laughs, letting his eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of their reflection in the dingy mirror beside them, his makeup already smudged. Jamez still looks impeccable, so Schling reaches out to sink his fingers into his hair, standing it up on end.

"Perfect," Jamez declares, admiring them in the mirror, and leans in to drop another messy kiss against Schling's cheek.  
______________

He kisses Spunkie onstage, under the lights. Both of them are overheated and breathless, Spunkie's arm draped around Schling's neck as he dances against him, rhythmic and tantalizing. They're both singing along with Tommy, and Spunkie leans in closer and closer, like he's trying to share an invisible mic, until their faces are pressed together, his breath coming hot against Schling's skin. Schling's fingers trip against his bass, losing time for a moment as Spunkie wraps a hand around the back of his neck, rakes his fingers up into Schling's hair.

Their kiss is heated and brief, a tease more than a conclusion, and Schling's desperate for more as Spunkie pulls back. He's radiant, both of them covered in glitter, and Schling isn't sure which of them it came from, but it makes Spunkie shine under the lights as he winks outrageously and spins away to plaster himself against Tommy's back.

Schling catches his breath, looks to Max to pick up his lost place, and starts playing again, fingers shaking against the strings.  
______________

He kisses the roadie backstage after the show.

"Oy!" Jamez yells, "Charlie!" The guy packing up their gear doesn't look up at first. When he does, it's with an expression of vague confusion, pointing at himself with a thumb. "Charlie Sparxxx!" Jamez continues, and plants his butt directly on top of the case Charlie was opening.

"That's not – " Charlie begins, an expression of annoyance darting across his face, but Jamez barrels on.

"You like that show, huh?" Jamez asks, and Charlie shrugs.

Schling leans in, dropping an arm over Charlie's shoulder. He's bundled up in two coats, and feels bulky and solid under Schling's arm. "A shrug?" he asks. "That's all we get?"

Charlie shrugs again, jostling Schling. "It was fine," he says mildly. He gestures to the case. "Hey, could you – "

"Not until you tell us how life-changing our set was," Jamez says.

"My life," Charlie says flatly, "was changed."

Jamez looks at Schling. "I don't believe him, do you?"

"Not really, no," Schling replies. "He doesn't really sound like a guy who just got his face rocked off." Charlie manages to shrug expressively against Schling. "I think we might have to pull out all the stops to impress Charlie, here."

"You don't need to impress me," Charlie points out. "I'm here to haul your gear, not to have fun."

Jamez looks at him skeptically. "Yeah," he agrees, looking back to Schling, "We're going to have to up our game."

"Don't worry," Schling says seriously, leaning heavily on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll impress you one of these days."

"I wasn't actually that worried," Charlie replies. He seems perfectly content to stand there with Schling draped against him, and in fact, when Schling nuzzles lightly against the side of his face, his neck goes red. Schling presses a kiss there, to the scruff of hair where his beard ends, rough and going faintly grey at the edges, and he's almost sure he catches a tiny hint of a smile as he pulls away.

When Schling looks back at Jamez, he's watching them with interest. "Well," he says, pushing himself off the case. "That's one way to go about it, I guess. Back to work, Charlie!"

"That's not – " Charlie objects as Schling untangles himself from him to follow Jamez, and he lets out a long sigh as they walk off. "Never mind."

"You tell me when you're impressed, okay?" Schling calls back, and Charlie gives him a wave over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," he says, "I'll get right on that."  
______________

He kisses Max against the car, on their way out of the gig.

They run into a group of fans on their way out, dragged in for selfies and autographs, and Schling can feel himself fading as he forces smiles, plays up the banter with Spunkie and Tommy, and it's not long before he feels a hand clamp to his arm, steering him away. He follows willingly, letting himself be led easily as Max turns him toward the car, sagging against him as they come to a stop beside it.

"Hey," Max says, soft and low, "you good?"

"Mmm," Schling agrees vaguely, and lets his head tilt against Max's shoulder, just for a moment, breathing in the scent of him from his collar. "Just tired."

"Yeah," Max agrees. "I think we all are." His hand lands firm against the back of Schling's neck, and Schling lifts his head again, looking at him. "Here, you hang out in the car while I round up the others, okay?"

Schling reaches for Max instead, tangling his fingers into his jacket, dragging him closer, warm and solid, and Max lets him stay there for a long moment, wrapping an arm around his back. "All right," he says almost gently, finally, "I'm going to – "

Schling leans in to kiss him, and Max kisses back just briefly, but so intense before he pulls back, his hand pressing warm and broad to his back. "Hey," he says again. "Not here, okay?" He opens the door to the car and keeps his hand protectively against Schling's back as he climbs in.

"Later?" Schling offers, and there's heat in Max's eyes as he reaches in to tangle his fingers into Schling's hair, tight and promising.

"Later," he agrees.  
______________

He kisses Tommy in bed, their legs tangled together beneath the covers. 

He stays up too long, too wired after the gig, and the others have all tumbled into bed without him, Spunkie wrapped tightly around Jamez, Max stretched out on the couch, Charlie and the documentary guy curled up back to back in a nest of blankets beside him. Tommy is sprawled out on the other bed, taking up the whole thing, and Schling has to push him aside to get any room, taking all of Tommy's hair and piling it onto his face as he slides in next to him.

Tommy lets out a protesting grumble, swiping at the hair and glaring through it at Schling, but his expression softens as Schling curls against him, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Hi," he says quietly, voice wrecked, and Schling smiles sleepily.

"Hi," he replies. He kisses Tommy slow and exhausted, and when Tommy lets his head drop back against the pillow, breaking the kiss, he rests his cheek against Tommy's chest, making a quiet contented noise.

Tommy wraps an arm around him, hand pressing warm to the bare skin of his side, and Schling drifts off to the quiet rumble of the others' snores around them.  
______________

He kisses the cameraman in the morning, barefoot in the kitchen. He wakes to the smell of coffee and pads off to find where it's coming from, pulling one of the blankets off of Tommy and wrapping it around himself like a cape.

The cameraman is humming tunelessly as he putters around the kitchen, and looks up to say, "Morning!" cheerfully as Schling enters. He's already wearing his hat, pulled down low over his eyes, but he gives Schling a bright smile from under it.

"Mgmph," Schling replies intelligently.

"Coffee?" the guy offers, holding out a mug, and Schling's fingers wrap around it almost without his prompting.

"I love you," he says fervently, and the cameraman goes pink.

"Oh, well. Thanks?" he offers.

Schling leans in to press a kiss to his temple, just under the hat, but he turns his head at the last minute, catching Schling's lips, soft and warm and hesitant. He's smiling shyly when Schling pulls back. "Looked like you were good at that," he says almost apologetically, tugging his hat back into place. "I got some really great footage last night."

"Oh yeah?" Schling grins at him. "And?" he prompts.

He shrugs. "Eh." He's hiding a grin, and behind him, Schling can hear Spunkie laugh.

"That's a ringing endorsement, right there," Spunkie says, draping across the doorframe, somehow looking almost elegant in a hotel robe.

" _Eh_?" Schling repeats. The cameraman shrugs expressively, cheeks dimpling with the effort not to laugh. "Oh, I'll _show_ you 'eh,'" Schling insists, and reaches out to tangle his hand in the filmmaker's shirt, dragging him in to kiss him deep and passionate.

Spunkie lets out a wolf whistle behind them, and Schling can hear some of the others grumbling angrily at the noise, but he's busy losing himself in the feeling of the guy's hands gripping him tightly, his lips letting out a quiet gasp into Schling's mouth as they press together. 

"Eh?" Shling asks when they finally break apart, breathless, and the guy laughs, looking delighted.

"If I say it again," he says, "will you keep doing that?"

"Yes," Spunkie supplies. "He will. Indefinitely." He ruffles Schling's hair affectionately as he breezes past them to pour himself some coffee, and Schling, true to form, turns to kiss the cameraman again.


End file.
